Where'd You Go?
by Tristis Lullum
Summary: [Sequel to People Never Change] One can only wait so long. [Postmovie][EdWin][Songfic]


**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, and I don't own "Where'd You Go?" by Fort Minor.

**Stuff:** This is a FOLLOWUP to People Never Change. You wanted one, so I've got one. This, is also, a songfic. Yay commas.

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**Where'd You Go?**

_Where'd you go?_

_I miss you so._

_Seems like it's been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

"Oh Ed," Winry sighed as she stood on the balcony of her second-story, canary yellow house, staring out at the sunset. It had been so long since they left, and where were they? She didn't even know anymore, and she found herself not knowing very much these days. She didn't even know if they were still alive, let alone out there somewhere. What if they were dead? With all the trouble they got themselves into, it was likely. And how was Ed's arm? His leg? What if he broke them? She wouldn't be there to fix them, and how many good mechanics were there, anyway? Wherever he was? She sighed as the last rays of sunlight escaped underneath a hill, leaving the only remains of the sun – the faint, purply pink glow on the sky, and her memory of it. _Just like Ed_, She thought sadly.

"Winry?" Pinako called from downstairs, "Winry? Dinner." This was the routine now – she'd work, get her automail done for the customers who needed it, and spend her time staring out at the sun, when it was setting. And then she'd be called down to dinner, which her and her grandma would share silently. And then she'd wash the dishes, and head to bed. As if losing him once wasn't enough, losing him twice had done the damage. Or at least enough of it to let Pinako know that her granddaughter was scarred.

And that was how it went tonight, just like always. They sat, eating their beef stew in silence, not questioning the quietness, or even asking how the day was. They both knew. It was work now, and Winry's enthusiastic gleam in her eye had left her – nothing seemed to make her very happy anymore. Not even working on the automail she loved. The automail that was the only physical connection to her and Edward.

_She said, "Some days I feel like shit,_

_Some days I want to quit,_

_And just be normal for a bit."_

_I don't understand why you have to always be gone._

_I get along,_

_But the trips always feel so long._

_I find myself trying to stay by the phone,_

'_Cause your voice always helps me to not feel so alone._

_I feel like an idiot, working my day around the call,_

_But when I pick up, I don't have much to say._

_So I want you to know, it's a little fucked up,_

_That I'm stuck here waiting, at times debating,_

_Telling you that I've had it with you and your career._

_Me and the rest of the family sitting here, saying "Where'd you go?"_

And after dinner, like every day before it, since he left, she cleaned the dishes, silently scrubbing them without vigor. A half-hearted attempt. The only sound was the serenade of dishes clanking quietly together, or the sponge scrubbing away at them. Everything in the house was quiet now, because nobody expected anything more. The only loud thing in the hallowed walls of the once sunny house was the _brriing_ of the telephone. And even that didn't last long.

And if, on queue, the phone rang. Winry raised her dull, once-oceanic eyes to the phone with a small glimpse of hope, but it was quickly lost as Pinako answered and started talking maintenance to a customer from earlier that day. And with a sigh, she put the dishes down, drained the sink, and started up the stairs.

"Winry?" Pinako asked as she put the phone down, worry in her voice. _This has gone on too long, she needs to get over that boy,_ She rationalized to herself, the only way the headstrong woman could admit to herself that what she was doing was right. And useful – even though she knew it wasn't.

"Not now, Granny, I'm tired," Winry exaggerated, looking back at Pinako with a tired smile, a fake smile. The only smile she ever smiled now – an attempt to make things normal, even though they were damaged beyond repair. Den loped up the stairs after her, feeling the weight of the emotional situation on his shoulders as well, despite being able to understand her tears every night, before she went to bed, or how she'd sigh when she came across something of his.

Truthfully tired, she climbed into her bed without changing into her pajamas – another ritualistic habit she had. Maybe she just didn't care anymore, what happened to her clothes. Den crawled up next to her, wriggling under her arm, trying to make her feel better. Though Den – although Winry loved him with all her heart – just wasn't as helpful anymore. And though it felt nice to have something's shoulder to cry on, he couldn't comfort her like she needed. And so her feelings were neglected.

Tears rolled down her cheek, clocked by the time-tight schedule of her days, never missing a beat. "Why'd he have to go, Den?" She sniffed, pulling the black dog closer to herself, her arm resting against the cool metal of his leg. "Where'd he go?" Tears started coming by the dozen now, uncontrollably rolling down her face and onto her pillowcase, creating a damp spot. But her pillow, like everything else in the house, was accustomed to the emotional wreck that was its owner.

The dog whined at her, and made an attempt to wriggle closer, but was stopped when Winry's arms wrapped tighter around him, her face against his soft fur. "Why? Den, why?"

_I miss you so,_

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Where'd you go?_

_I miss you so._

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Please come back home…_

"Why can't he come back?" She whispered after the tears had stopped, leaving her eyes tired, itchy, and red. Her face stung from the tears, and her pillow was so wet she had to turn it over. Sleep was now the inevitable next on her schedule, after being worn down by a day of worrying, waiting, working, crying for him… Doing everything she used to, only now for the sake of nostalgia, and keeping herself sane. "Come back home, Ed, please?" She whispered again, keeping her voice quiet in the way that sleep does. And eventually, she fell into the abyss.

_You know, to the place where you used to live?_

_Used to barbeque up burgers and ribs._

_Used to throw a little party every Halloween,_

_With candy by the piles,_

_But now, you only stop by every once in a while._

_Shit, I find myself fillin' my time,_

_With anything to keep the thought of you from my mind._

_I'm doin' fine, and I plan on keeping it that way._

_You can call me if you find that you have something to say._

_And I'll tell you now, it's a little fucked up,_

_That I'm stuck here waiting, at times debating,_

_Telling you that I've had it with you and your career._

_Me and the rest of the family sitting here singing, "Where'd you go?"_

And then morning came, unsympathetically, and she was forced to wake up again. Den had gone already, because Pinako fed him before she woke up in the mornings. Her room was always very sunny in the early morning, the yellow light filling up the room that now was clean – no wrenches hazardously sprawled across the wooden floor, no clothes thrown around because she was too busy to put them away. No, she had enough time to keep her room clean now – even the floor was tidy, mopped and dusted and well oiled – shiny, even. Like a well-made machine. The nuts, bolts, and wires were all neatly in their drawers downstairs, in the workshop, because she didn't dare bring anything up to her room at night to work on. She did that for Ed, when he still needed her.

"Does he still need me?" She asked herself as she got up, making her bed before straightening out the folds in her worn mechanics one-piece, zipping up the front, which had slid down while she was sleeping. "No, he doesn't," She answered herself when nobody did, and went downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast these days wasn't anything very good, just a muffin that Pinako managed to bake on the weekends, or a bowl of bland cereal. That was it. A bowl of candy laid on the counter, something for the little kids who would come in and wait while their dads, mothers, sisters – family – got automail tune-ups. "Remember when we'd hand that out?" She asked herself, staring at the bowl. One Halloween, before Ed and Al had gone to train with Izumi, they stayed in and gave out candy to the smaller kids that had trick-or-treated. Winry had wanted to go out, because she always managed a big payload with the cute costumes she'd wear, but Ed boasted that they were too old for it, so they stayed in.

"Winry! There's a customer waiting for you!" Throwing her muffin back, she walked into the workshop and helped the young man into a chair, examining the leg that looked extremely banged up. The same leg Ed had – and injuries to it that were so similar… Sighing, she looked up at the man – he was handsome, maybe a year or two older than she was, with black hair and clear, green eyes. Though she could only frown at him, "What happened to your leg?"

"Uh… Nothing, really," He said sheepishly – in a way that reminded her so much of Ed. Although now would come the wrench in the head for him, but since he left, she couldn't anymore. She'd long thrown that wrench away – and everything else he'd gotten for her. She just couldn't bear looking at it. Work was more important anyway, she had to preoccupy herself with something, or else she would go crazy. And she didn't want that.

_I miss you so,_

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Where'd you go?_

_I miss you so._

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Please come back home…_

And then the day was over again, and she found herself looking down at her yard instead of the sun, at the little For Sale sign, with a big red "SOLD" over it. They were leaving – they had to leave, because they bought a bigger shop in Rush Valley, where they'd get more business, and a bigger lot – and a house that was nicer, bigger. Less significant to memories, and because of that, maybe her pain would ease up. Or at least her grandmother had suggested that, not directly, but in a subtle way. The way grandparents tried to calm their three year old grandchildren when their toys broke.

But she wasn't like that, not anymore – she was eighteen, had her whole life ahead of her, and was utterly heartbroken beyond repair. What hope was left for her, anyway? Getting out of the house where her parents had lived, where Trisha Elric would bring her boys every Sunday for tea, or just to talk with her own parents. Where Ed, Al and her played when they were little? That wouldn't help her, it would only make her worse. And she knew it.

_I want you to know, that it's a little fucked up,_

_That I'm stuck here waiting, no longer debating,_

_Tired of sitting, and hating and making these excuses,_

_For why you're not around, and feeling so useless._

_It seems that one things been true all along,_

_You don't really know what you've got 'til it's gone._

_I guess I've had it with you and your career,_

_When you come back,_

_I won't be here._

_And you can sing it._

And the night progressed off schedule – packing had made her tired, but her mind was wired, and kept her awake. She was leaving. For good. No more Resembool, no more rolling hills and sunrises, and sunsets. No more schedule. And for the first time since she was eleven, hate rolled through her. Hate toward _him_, for making her wait. "He had no right to do that," She whispered angrily to Den, who was sleeping beside her on her bed. "He had no right to leave me and Granny waiting for him and Al, he had no right to hurt me like that!" She quieted herself as her voice came dangerously close to yelling. "He had no right…"

And tonight, the tears came as well – but they weren't tears of mourning, of loss – but tears of anger. He'd left her for the last time, she decided. He was just like his father, leaving her – but she wasn't going to wear away like Trisha had. She'd seen it, too, just like he had. "I hope you remember her, Edward Elric," She growled, forming a fist with her right hand and crashing it into the soft bed beside her. "And today, I'm leaving. And then it'll be your turn to wait."

_Where'd you go?_

_I miss you so._

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Where'd you go?_

_I miss you so._

_Seems like its been forever,_

_That you've been gone._

_Please come back home…_

_Please come back home…_

_Please come back home…_

_Please come back home…_

_Please come back home…_

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**Yay: **Well, people wanted a continuation of People Never Change, so here it is. Probably not the continuation they wanted… Or thought of. But here it is. Review.


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